Splintered Lights
by Darkening Whispers
Summary: She woke up with pink hair, ruined vision, and no idea of who she was. She found a family, and a new identity. Sam Puckett was gone. One year later, he showed up. He remembered. He knew.
1. Chapter 1

Splintered Lights

_Darkening Whispers_

AN: I know. I really should be finishing Lil Ballerina. But currently, I have no inspiration, and this story was dying to be written. It's been whirring around in my head for a while. Squirrely, since I know you'll end up reading this, and since you beta'd a good chunk of my other story, care to help me with this one? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this! Love, Lyra

**Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form, own anything you recognize.**

**OOO**

"Where is she?" Carly was pacing around the iCarly studio, obviously worried. "Sam's almost never late!"

"Well she better show up soon," said Freddie. "Show's starting in fifteen seconds!"

"Oh my God! Freddie, get in front of the camera!" Freddie set the wall camera for filming, and stood next to Carly, who was nervously chewing her fingernails. He looked at his watch. "Five. . . four. . . three. . . two. . ."

"I'm Carly!"

"And I'm Freddie!"

"And this is iCarly!" they said simultaneously, with very fake smiles.

"We're not sure where Sam is right now." said Freddie.

Carly continued. "But we're kind of worried! We hope. . ."

"You hope." Freddie rolled his eyes.

"WE hope that she'll come running through that door any second, screaming 'Tech boy! Get back behind that camera!' and we can have a normal show!"

"Great impersonation, Carly."

They continued on with the show just like normal. Or not. Sam's absence made the whole show somewhat awkward. They did a Messin' with Lewbert bit, Eat Emmett Eat, had a few viewers on video chat to ask questions (mostly about Sam), did a terrible play with Gibby, and had Gibby lick a Christmas Ornament for Hey, What am I Licking.

"So that's it for iCarly!" said Carly. "Thanks for watching!"

"Yeah, bye!" Freddie waved at the camera and went off screen to end the show. Before he pressed the button, a shirtless Gibby lept in front of the camera and screamed, "GIBBY!"

"Great show-" Freddie started his usual sentence, but was interrupted.

"What do you mean, great show? It was not! Sam didn't show up! Where is she?"

"I don't know, maybe she's sick or something. I bet she's downstairs right now eating soup and Spencer's making sure she's okay."

"Or maybe," laughed Gibby, "she fell off a cliff!"

Two pairs of fierce eyes met his. "Gibby!"

"I was joking!"

No one said anything, and headed downstairs to see if Sam was there.

"Spence," called Carly from the bottom of the stairs, "Is Sam here?" Spencer looked up from his sculpture of a dodo bird.

"No, wasn't she doing the show with you guys?" He took off his gloves and stood up.

Carly let out a small squeak. "Don't you watch the show? She didn't show up! I texted her before the show even started and she never replied!"

Spencer just stared at her for a moment. "Have you ever heard of calling her?"

Carly said nothing, and found Sam's contact in her phone. She pressed the call button and held it up to her ear. Gibby was in the kitchen with his shirt off and his PearPod earphones in, dancing to some Gibbyish song. Freddie was standing next to Carly, waiting for Sam to answer the phone.

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._

It just kept ringing. Carly pulled the phone away from her ear and canceled the call. "It just keeps ringing. I'm gonna call her home phone."

She and Freddie sat down on the couch, and Spencer went back to his sculpture. Freddie pretended to be playing with an app on his PearPhone. He wasn't.

**Sam, where are you? Carly and I are worried sick!**

**Seriously, Sam. You didn't show up for the show and you won't answer your phone!**

**Why are you ditching us? I'll buy you an extra large smoothie and a whole stick of burgers if you just talk to us!**

**Ohmigod, Carly says there's hot guy actors downstairs! Hotter than the European Fun Guys! Go see them, Sam!**

**Okay, I lied. Just speak to us!**

When he sent the last text, Carly spoke into the phone. "Um, hi. Ms. Puckett, is Sam home?"

"_Carly? Is that you? Uh, last time I saw Sam she said she was going to your place. That was this morning."_

Carly was somewhat surprised Pam had actually kept track of where her daughter was. "Well, we haven't seen her all day."

"_Maybe she went to the mall or something. I'm busy right now. If she doesn't show in a few days, call me back!"_

"Um, okay." Carly put down the phone and turned to Freddie. "Her mom hasn't seen her since this morning. She said she might have gone to the mall."

"But Sam never goes to the mall unless you're with her. . ."

Carly bit her lip. "My point exactly. We wait until tomorrow night. Then we can really worry."

~oOo~

It was really, really fuzzy. Not soft, furry fuzzy. It was blurry. She couldn't see a single thing clearly. She could make out a gray road, and some tall yellow-green-brown grass around her, and maybe a few trees. She stood up, looking back and forth down the gray expanse of road, looking for a car to maybe get a ride to anywhere. She was wearing a huge t-shirt, big enough for a very large man. It was tied around her waist with a thin piece of ribbon, and went down to her waist, like a dress. Her feet were bare.

A small spot of maroon appeared on the horizon,and she decided to take a chance. She stood in the middle of the road, waiting for the car to get to her, notice her. She jumped up and down, waving her hands up and down. The spot got bigger and bigger, and it definitely was a car. It was getting close to her, and started to slow down.

It stopped, and someone got out. She couldn't make out their appearance, only khaki pants, a green shirt, and arms and a head.

"What are you doing in the middle of the road?" It was the voice of an elderly man.

"I-I don't know," she said, "I just woke up on the side of the road, and I don't know how I got there."

Though she couldn't see it, the man gave her a kind look. "Do you need a ride? We've got a phone at home, if you need to call anybody, and I'm sure my wife won't mind if you stay for dinner."

She didn't know whether to accept or not, but decided a chance is any chance, and this offer may not come again.

"Could I? Please? I have no idea how I got here. . ."

He walked over to the other seat of the car and opened it for her; and after a few stumbles, she walked to the car and got in. The man got back in the car and they were driving along the road with the windows down and wind whipping around them.

"So," said the man, to fill the silence, "What's your name?"

Then it hit her. She didn't know her name. She was nameless. Nothing. She thought hard, searching for something in her mind to remember anything about her identity. "I-I. . . I don't know." she choked it out, close to tears.

"You don't know? You must have gotten it bad. Do you remember where you were before you were on the highway?"

"No. . . the first thing I can remember is laying in the grass. And I couldn't see anything."

The man chuckled, for reasons she didn't know. "You went blind ?"

"No, no, it was just really blurry. It still is."

"Maybe Edith can get you some glasses."

"Edith?"

"My wife. I'm Cecil, by the way."

She giggled. "You two must be pretty old, then."

He burst out in laughter. "That's the truth, kid!"

She tapped her fingernails on the car door. "So where do you live?"

He smiled. "It's a tiny, tiny village. It's not marked on maps and it has about seven results if you look it up on the Internet. It's called Henrystone, Washington. Population eighteen. All farms. One store. You gotta drive about three hours for a hospital, or any normal places."

She had never been to the country, she knew that. She remembered a city. "I lived in the city. I don't know where, but I remember a city."

"Eh, all the city folks love the country. You'll see."

Exactly seven minutes later, Cecil turned onto a long dirt road that went uphill. There really wasn't much to see until. . .

The car was at the top of the hill, and it looked down onto a green-brown field with a shimmering lake at the the back. At the edge of the lake was a little blue cottage, with smoke rising up from the chimney There was a red barn, and she saw horses. There was a forest, colored in autumn's gold and red in the other direction, with another dirt road which seemed to wind through it. There were cornfields and vegetable patches and all kinds of other things were growing in other fields.

"Welcome to the farm."

The car bumpidy-bumped down to the house, and when the got out, she could smell ham. Suddenly her stomach grumbled, and the scent of ham was beckoning her towards the house.

Cecil poked his head into the house. "Edith, we got a surprise!"

She heard a muffled voice say something, and Cecil looked towards her. "Come on in!"

Watching the ground carefully, to make sure she didn't step on something in her bare feet, she walked through the door, which was held open by Cecil.

"Oh my word." A woman with gray and white hair put her hands up on her mouth. "What'd she do to her hair?"

"Uh," she said, "what do you mean?"

"Why did you die it that color? It's crazy!"

She took a lock of her curly hair to examine it. It was pink. Bright, magenta, hot pink, to be exact. "I don't know. I don't remember dying it. I can't remember anything past a few hours ago."

The woman put on some oven mitts and took a ham out of the oven. "You poor thing. Let me get you some clothes. You're wearing rags! What's your name, honey?"

Edith grabbed her hand and led her into another room. "I don't know. I can't remember."

"These were my granddaughter's. She keeps some clothes here for when she visits, and I think she's about your size." She held up a few shirts to her. "So, no name? I'll call you Candy, cause candy is pink and your hair is pink!"

"Not all candy is pink," said the now-Candy.

Edith put a shirt and jeans in her arms. "It is to me. I'll lock the door so you can change." With that she left, and Candy struggled to put the clothes on, but eventually she did, and came out into the living room.

"How do I look?" She smiled at the elderly couple.

"Judge for yourself!" Edith pointed to a full-length mirror.

"Hm. I like the color of the shirt, but I can't really see. . ."

Cecil interrupted. "I forgot! She's nearly blind. Bad eyes. You think you can drive her to town tomorrow and get her some glasses? Maybe see if she's on any missing persons fliers."

"Of course I will. Now, we've got to eat. I made ham!"

"I love ham!" shouted Candy.

Edith laughed. "Best meat ever, right? At least you remember something!"

She smiled, happy. The elderlies were taking care of her, she had a name (though it just didn't feel right), she was about to have a belly full of ham, and she was going to be able to see tomorrow.

~oOo~

"She'll never remember a thing."

"How do you know?"

The room was dark, but there were obviously only two people in it. They spoke in hushed voices.

"We erased her memory, we dyed her hair, ruined her vision, and we threw her in the middle of nowhere! Nothing can happen! She's gone. Sam Puckett no longer exists."


	2. Chapter 2

Splintered Lights

_By Darkening Whispers_

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. **

OOO

It had been a year since she disappeared. They had tried to forget her. She never came up in conversation, and no more tears were shed over her.

But she was always in their minds. Carly remembered her best friend. Sam her friend. Sam the meat lover. Freddie remembered his best friend and worst enemy. Sam the sarcastic. Sam the aggressive. Spencer remembered the constant presence on his couch. Sam the lazy. Gibby remembered an friend who, for some reason, would beat him up. Sam the tormentor. Principal Franklin remembered the delinquent who was in his office four times a week. Sam the troublemaker. Mrs. Briggs remembered the girl who never made above a C. Sam the slacker. Pam Puckett remembered the child who was waiting to be loved by her mother. Sam the daughter. Sam the impatient. Melanie remembered her sister, who was so opposite. Sam the different. Everyone remembered her, no one spoke of her. Sam the loved. Sam the remembered.

iCarly ended a month after she went missing. They said they were on hiatus, in the chance of her returning, but she didn't. The comments and emails came in like crazy.

**Where's Sam? Why's the show ending?**

**I heard Sam got preggers. Freddie, you the dad?**

**Every one of you are idiots! It's so obvious that she killed herself! That's why Carly and Gibby and Freddie look so sad!**

**Hey iCarlies! I was wondering why the show is ending? Is it because of Sam? She wasn't in the last few episodes!**

**Omg, Sam lyk, muved ta Na Zeelind, duuuuhz. **

**Chick, you think Freddie could get Sam pregnant? He's waaaay to nice for that. Plus they hate each other. How long have you watched the show, exactly? :(**

**I know where Sam is!**

**Where?**

**Lyk, whar?**

**Please, enlighten us.**

**She's on Earth. :D**

It was insane. It started to die down. Most viewers were under the assumption that Sam was either pregnant or that she was dead. Carly and Freddie stopped looking at the site all together. Too many memories.

The first month had been chaotic. Search parties looked over every inch of Seattle and the surrounding cities, but didn't even find a trace. No bus tickets that she would have bought, no ham robberies, nothing. Eventually they gave up.

She was gone.

~oOo~

The little bell that hung above the doctor's office jingled as Edith and Candy walked out of the office.

"I'm so happy that they're getting your glasses so soon!"

"It was kind of embarrassing." Candy blushed. "I mean, my vision's so bad that they're getting my glasses in an hour?"

"We have an hour to do whatever we want! How about we go to the park here in town?"

Candy smirked. "Can I throw acorns at hobos?"

Edith hit her lightly on the shoulder. "Hobos are respectable people! Plus, when I was your age, I did the exact same thing. Not a happy story. There is a pond. We can throw rocks at ducks!"

"Yes!" They got into the car and drove off, for some throwing-of-rocks-at-ducks festivities.

They sat at a picnic table right next to the pond, with a small pile of pebbles between the two. Edith picked one up and threw it at a duck. _Quaaaak!_ It screeched a screechy sound and flew up out of the pond. Candy followed her, and threw a pebble at another duck. Soon the air was filled with a symphony of quacking, screeching ducks.

When the last rock was thrown, the two sat quietly for a moment. Then they both laughed. Edith hadn't had so much fun in a while, and Candy couldn't remember much fun that she'd had.

"You think it's been an hour?" she asked Edith.

Edith just nodded, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. In ten minutes they were back at the doctor's office. Edith handed Candy the glasses, and she put them on.

Every line became crisp and significant, every color was not mixed with another, and she could see Edith's face clearly. Every feature and wrinkle that was there was visible. The waiting room wasn't just a box with chairs anymore. She could see the tables with magazines and the pictures on the walls.

"Wow." Her lips formed into a smile, and she hugged the elderly woman. "Thanks, Edith."

It was a three hour drive back to the farm, and Edith let Candy be in charge of the radio. Every song seemed so familiar, yet so foreign. One caught her mind, though. It was a fast song with lots of guitar riffs and a drum player who obviously loved his cymbals.

"I know this! This is Cuddlefish! I loved this band!"

"You had loud taste in music, then."

The song didn't finish. They were getting farther from civilization, and the radio was no longer music, just static. Candy turned off the radio and started to pick at her fingernails.

She noticed something. It was written on the interior of her finger in black marker that had mostly faded, but still somewhat readable.

_Your name is Sam._

"I. . . I've got a name. I know my name."

Edith smiled. "Yay! What is it?"

"Sam." She was still staring at the scrawly writing on her finger.

"Do you remember anything else?"

"No, I didn't remember my name. It was written on my hand. But Sam feels right. I know that it's it." She showed Edith her finger. "See?"

Edith slowed the car as she examined her hand. "I see it!"

Sam-not-Candy smiled. She had a name. A real name.

"I like your name. Saaaam. Sam. Sammie. Saaaaaam. Sssssaaaaammmmm."

"Okay! You don't need to say it over and over again!"

"Sam."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Edith, please!"

**One Year Later**

"School's only a month in and I'm already sick of it!" Sam walked into the house carrying the books that wouldn't fit into her bag. "And Cecil's being all grouchy because of the drive!"

Cecil followed her in. "Did not! I just don't think it's logical to drive forty minutes to get to school."

Edith smiled. "She has to go to high school! We've been driving forty minutes to school five days a week for the past year! Sam, you survived ninth grade, didn't you?"

"Barely."

"Well you can get through tenth! You're a smart girl with nerd glasses. You can pretend you want to do well."

"I wear nerd glasses only because nerd glasses are awesome, not because I'm a nerd. My hair makes up for it!" She cut into the ham that sat on the countertop. "I, Sam Augustons, in no way shape or form, am a nerd, geek, or nub. If you want to be fancy about it."

Cecil sat at the table. "If you say so," he mumbled. Sam stuck her tongue out at him.

She picked up her bookbag and purse, and walked down the hall. "I have mountains of homework! I'm gonna get started."

"Hey," called Edith to her, "What did you get on your geometry test?"

"An eighty nine!" she yelled back.

"Good job!"

Sam didn't reply, and opened up her bookbag to dig out her planner. She opened it up to the day.

_Spanish-memorize the nouns list!_

_Physics- none_

_Anatomy-Essay on circulatory system due next week_

_Study Hall-like that'll ever happen_

_English-short biography due friday!  
_

_Geometry-review pg. 122 #1-46_

_Health-take notes on lesson 4-2_

She looked over her assignments. Like she'd ever spend time memorizing Spanish, and she'd do the anatomy essay next week. Her biography would be a challenge—she'd have to go into detail of her fake 'foster child' story. And too much Geometry! And health notes. Bleh.

She always worked backwards, so it started with health. She pulled out her binder and book.

_Lesson 4-2: Memory Loss_

_Memory loss is commonly found in elderly people who's minds. . ._

She skipped around the page.

_Sometimes, through a major head injury, adults, adolescents, and children. . ._

She snapped the book shut She could get a zero on that.

Sam couldn't keep her mind on the homework. It had been about a year since she had started living here, and she liked to pretend she had grown up here.

But she didn't. She told people she was a foster child who got moved around a lot. They believed her. Even her best friend at school, Allie, would never hear her story.

Because Sam's perfect looking life would crash down around her. Falling, falling, falling.

She pulled out her PearPod that Cecil had gotten her on her birthday (They celebrated on February 17, for reasons unknown), and turned the volume almost all the way up.

Sam needed the music.

~oOo~

"It's been a year."

"I know."

"You found information on her?"

"Yes."

"What does she know?"

"Her first name. But that's it. There's a million Sams in the world."

"Good."

OOO

**Yeah, I totally just updated this really fast. I'm having so much fun with this story! :D Thanks one person who's reviewed since I posted the first chapter two hours ago! You're awesome!**

**Love y'all who've read this! As of now, chapter one got 32 hits. Joy.**

**So I hope you enjoyed chapter number two!**

**Love, Lyra**

**:)**


	3. Chapter 3

Splintered Lights

_Darkening Whispers_

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize.**

**OOO**

"Carly? You home?" Freddie walked into Carly and Spencer's apartment without knocking. Carly came down the stairs. "Hey Freddie. What's up?" They both walked into the kitchen, and Freddie took a few grapes from a bowl.

"I kind of need to tell you something."

Carly had her mouth full of grapes. "Hmm?" she swallowed. "What is it?"

"I'm not going back to Ridgeway till after Christmas." He looked up at her, waiting for her expression. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened in shock.

"Wh-what? What? You're joking, right?"

Freddie looked down at his shoes—Converse, in honor of Sam. Never anything else. "No, I'm not."

"Why?"

"My mom's sending me to live at one of her friend's cousin's wife's parent's house in the country. She says I'm depressed and being out in nature will be good for me. They're making me work and I'll be going to school there."

"Your mom. . . but she's your mom! She'll never let you. . ."

"Apparently she had a change of mind." His voice was solemn and monotone.

Carly hugged him. "Who am I stuck hanging out with now?"

"Gibby? Wendy? Uh. . ."

"Yeah."

"It's only until January. That's four months." He sighed, and sat down on a barstool. "I'm leaving on Friday afternoon. It's a five hour drive."

Carly poured herself some lemonade. "Everything sucks."

"I know."

~oOo~

"Cecil. Cecil. CECIL!" Sam followed the old man around the house, wanting answers. "Seriously, Cecil! Who's coming?"

"A person who's going to help out on the farm, that's it! Since you refuse to help."

Sam scoffed. "I totally help! I ride the horses and I take care of the carrots in the veggie patch."

"Riding the horses doesn't help with anything and the carrots are _dead_!"

She sighed. "If it's just a worker, why were you talking about school?" She was going to get answers out of Cecil.

"Because he's your age."

Sam's lips spread into a smile. "Yes!" Someone her age was coming to the farm, plus he was a _guy_. Hopefully somewhat cute. "When's he getting here?"

"He'll be here tomorrow night."

Sam squealed, and went back to her room. She had all the information she needed.

At school the next day, Sam ran through the halls to find Allie. "Allie, Allie, Alllliiiie!"

Her dirty-blonde haired friend looked flustered. "What, what? Sam, chill out!"

Sam took in a deep breath. "Guess what?"

"Hm?"

"There's a guy, coming to the farm, to work for Cecil, who's. . . wait for it. . . our age!"

Allie grinned. "Worker guy. . . must do a lot of lifting and stuff. . ."

"You know it! Muscles. Hotness. Sweaty farming days. Shirtless!"

"You are having me sleep over at least twice a month."

Sam just stared at her. "Fine. Maybe. But you know how Edith is about sleepovers. And I really don't know what he even looks like yet."

Allie gave a sarcastic look. "So?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "I'll see you in anatomy. But I didn't do my history homework and I need to go find someone to copy off of. Since you're no help."

"I take French, I'm sorry."

The day went by too slowly. It was ridiculous. But the thought of a person of the male gender who was less than the age of sixty-five staying with them was ridiculous too. She couldn't remember anything else. And while excited, Sam was kind of worried, too. She didn't know what to expect.

When Edith came to pick her up from school, Sam was nearly hopping up and down.

"I want to know about the dude who's coming? Is he hot? Is he ugly? Is he a nub? A hot nub?"

Edith sighed. "I don't know! I've only talked to his mom, who's dropping him off later." The forty minute drive went faster than it normally did, with chatter of this strange newcomer to the family.

"I made a ham," Edith mentioned, "since it's sort of. . . Well, any time's a good time for ham, right?"

Sam giggled. "Always."

When they got home, Sam dumped her bookbag and purse in her room, and didn't bother with straightening it up at all. But the kitchen, living room, and guest room definitely needed some straightening. They dusted the furniture, wiped down the countertops, vacuumned, swept, and pretty much made everything look near sparkling.

As Sam poured some crumbs from the dustpan into the garbage can, Edith came up behind her and started to examine her hair. "Go make your hair look nice. Less pink!"

"I can't do that! I like my hair and I don't even know exactly what natural color it is and there's no time to go get hair dye!"

"I mean tie it back, make it less obvious your hair is super pink. And maybe if you let your hair grow out more than an inch you'd know the natural color!"

"But that looks gross!"

Sam stood in front of the mirror with a hairbrush, bobby pins, and lots of ponytail holders, trying to make it look okay. But she just wasn't a ponytail kind of person. She settled with having the sides up, which left most of it down.

Cecil came running in. "I just talked to the mom! They're gonna be here in eight minutes!"

"Oh my God!" screamed Edith, and she ran around the house trying to clean something. Sam sighed.

Exactly eight minutes later, Cecil came back in. "They're here! Everybody look natural!"

The muffled voices of two people getting out of their car came through the walls. It was dark outside, so no one could see outside. Two doors slammed. Footsteps came up the front walkway.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Cecil opened the door, and a nervous looking woman came inside. Following her was a medium height brown-haired boy wearing a shirt that read _Liquid Chicken_. He was average looking. Decent enough. Sam wasn't disappointed, but not drooling over him either.

"Hi, hi!" Edith and Cecil both shook hands with the two. "Sam," called Edith, "Come here!"

Sam came from the living room, smiling. "Hi!"

"This is our foster daughter, Sam." said Cecil. "Sam, this is Marissa and Freddie Benson."

Freddie's heart cracked a little when he learned the pink-haired girl's name. Sam. But Sam didn't have glasses, and if she did they wouldn't be nerd glasses, nor would she ever let her hair be pink. But maybe. . . He shook the idea out of his mind. He didn't want any more pain.

"Uh, hi," said Freddie to Pink-Sam, "I'm Freddie."

She looked at him. "I can see that."

After the adults chatted for a few moments, everyone went to the kitchen for a late dinner. A ham sat at the center of the table, with potatoes and broccoli, and after giving thanks for the food, everyone took some food.

Freddie took a bit of everything, but when he looked over at Pink-Sam, he saw she had taken about a third of the ham.

Just like Sam.

His heart cracked a little more. But he refused to believe this Pink-Sam could have any connection to Sam.

After dinner, suitcases were brought in, and with lots of his mother's hugs and tears and reminders to take tick baths, Freddie was left alone with these three strange people.

Cecil sighed. "Your mom said you're not supposed to eat sugary stuff, but Edith made pie, if you want some."

"Really? You don't care?"

"Not at all, as long as you like peach."

"Yes, please." He smiled politely. Over by Edith, away from Freddie's sight, Sam did a fake gagging motion, and mouthed, _He's so polite! It's weird!_

Edith cut the pie and out it on plates with vanilla ice cream. The four ate their pie in an awkward silence. When they were done, it was getting late.

Cecil showed Freddie his room. He decided to unpack his things the next day, and just pulled out pajamas for the night. He found his toothbrush and toothpaste and went to brush his teeth.

Turns out Pink-Sam was in the bathroom brushing her teeth.

"Uh, hi." Freddie said to her.

She spat out the toothpaste. "Hey."

"I know this is an weird question, but why's your hair-"

She interrupted him. "Pink? Because I feel like it, nub."

For the third time that night, Freddie's heart cracked.

OOO

**I am updating waaaay to fast. But I'm having so much fun!**

**So that was chapter three. Love it? Hate it?**

**As of right now,148 hits. Big step up, people! I'm proud. Thank you, my eight reviewers!**

**None of you care.**

**Love y'all, thanks for reading!**

**-Lyra**


	4. Chapter 4

**Splintered Lights**

_Darkening Whispers_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. I do, however, own Cecil, Edith, Sam's nerd glasses, and... yeah, not much else.**

**OOO**

_Hey Carly,_

_Okay, this place sucks. It's two old people and their foster daughter, who's our age. Her name's, well, Sam. She has pink hair and wears glasses. She's almost definitely not Puckett. :( I'd bet money that she's not. Anyway, the farm here is biiiig, and I have to work. Milk cows, take care of crops. Bleh. I'm thanking God that there's internet access, or I would be dying. And the town? Population 18. 18! How can it call itself a town? There is pie, though. Good pie. Like, Galini's good. But not coconut cream pie. They make peach pie, and the Pink Sam makes apple pie. Pie is pretty much the only good thing here. I start school tomorrow, which is... sad. I'm gonna miss Ridgeway, even if it's only for a few months._

_Miss you and Spencer and Gibby and all the other peeps:)_

_-Freddie_

Carly read the message three times, and sighed. She was lonely without Freddie. First she loses Sam, now him? Everything was going to hell.

On Monday, she wore Converse and a polo, for her missing friends. She hung around Wendy and her gang, and she walked with Gibby to her classes.

When she got home from school, she had another message from Freddie. He must be really bored.

_Carly-o!_

_I took pictures today at school. There's only three hundred-something people at this school! It's tiny! There's some pics of the farm and the people I'm living with, too._

Carly scrolled down the page. The first picture was of a flat building, with worn-out letters on the front that read, 'George Washington Middle and High School'. It had a comment underneath.

_Welcome to GWS. Also known as: Hell._

The next was of a hall full of teens and tweens. They all looked tired and gray and. . . well, sad.

_Students. Fun and exciting, right? Wrong._

The next was of an old man with eyes so wrinkled they were nearly shut.

_This is Mr. Brown, my first period teacher. He's deaf, blind, and gives too much homework._

Then there was a picture of a little blue house, with a wrap-around porch and a lake behind it.

_House that I'm living at. It's pretty small, but somehow everybody fits inside._

Next was a picture of an old man and woman, both with gray hair. The man wore suspenders and the woman wore a green dress.

_Edith and Cecil. They're old, but kind of nice. Edith is really weird._

The next was of a pink-haired girl. It wasn't just pink, it was HOT pink. Bright magenta pink. She wore nerdy glasses, a green t-shirt, blue denim shorts, and a gray hoodie. She was holding her hand up to the camera, and her mouth was in the middle of a word.

_This is Sam Auguston. She's the foster kid. She got really mad when I took this picture. Teehee!_

Carly smiled sadly. Just the name Sam made her hurt. She had lost her best friend. . . Carly really couldn't see the girls face well, behind her palm and glasses, and her hair color made her eyes keep drifting to her hair, instead of her face.

She opened up Zaplook, and clicked on the search bar. "Sam Auguston," she said under her breath, "Enter."

The page loaded. It had results for all kinds of different Sams and Augustons, but no Sam Auguston. She put quotations around her name and pressed enter.

Search Results for "Sam Auguston": 0 Results

~oOo~

It was Freddie's first day of school. He was actually glad to be here. He had Saturday for unpacking and getting settled, but Sunday was all about work. He milked cows, weeded gardens, fed horses, picked and peeled apples, and learned how to drive the tractor.

Now he could actually sit down and learn something. He wore his Fries Matter Penny-T.

"What's with those shirts you wear?" Pink-Sam had asked him that morning.

"I like them." Freddie replied. "Me and my friends wear them all the time."

Sam poured Fiber-Nuts into a bowl. "Tell me 'bout your weird friends."

"Well, there's Carly. She's been my best friend for a while. She's nice, and pretty, and she treats me like a human being, unlike-" Freddie stopped mid-sentence.

"Unlike who?"

"Her name was Sam, like you. She was my other best friend."

"Lots of girly friends. Her name _was_? Why do you say was?"

He looked down and bit his lip. "She—she's not around anymore."

"That sucks. What was she like?"

Freddie smiled sadly. "She was aggressive and lazy, and I was her punching bag. She liked to embarrass me, and she thought I was the biggest geek alive."

Sam scoffed. "Aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I guess. You remind me of her, you know? I guess all Sam's are like that or something."

"Any guy friends? Or you just a complete priss?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Gibby. Spencer. No. . . Gibby was more of a co-worker. Spencer was more like my big brother." He frowned. "No, not really."

She laughed, and took a bite of her cereal. No one said anything else.

After a very long forty minute drive, Sam and Freddie stood in front of the school.

"Wow. This is. . . I need to take a picture." He pulled out his PearPhone and held it up to the building. A clicking sound came from the phone, and he put it back in his pocket.

Freddie sighed. "So how many people will be in our grade?"

"There's thirty-six, but now that you're here it'll be thirty-seven."

"Wow. That's tiny."

Sam could tell that Freddie thought her school was horrible. He probably went to some fancy city school back in Seattle.

_She stands next to Freddie, waiting for a name to be called. A man stands at a podium. "Freddie Benson!" he says, and Freddie jumps up. "In your face-"_

Sam opened her eyes quickly and shook her head. It was a weird, deja vu kind of feeling. But she had never been in that hallway, had she? She shook the thought out of her mind.

The day went by slowly. She had Freddie in all her classes, as requested by Cecil. At lunchtime, she introduced him to Allie.

"Hey Allie," she said, sitting down with her food, "This is Freddie-"

Allie's eyes widened. "Benson! You're Freddie Benson! Oh my God!" She stood up and started to shake his hand. "This is awesome!"

Sam looked at the two. "You guys know each other?"

Freddie opened his mouth to talk, but Allie beat him. "This is Freddie Benson, from iCarly! You know, the webshow? Really popular about a year ago. Then it just ended!"

Sam shrugged. "Never heard of it." she looked at Freddie as he sat down. "You famous or something?"

"No, not really. I just filmed it and did all the technical stuff."

Allie, unlike Sam, was excited. "So what ever happened to the show? Why'd you guys end it? Carly and that blonde Sam looked like they had so much fun!"

"Personal reasons."

Sam grinned. "I know why! He said something about those chicks! One of them died or something. The one with the same name as me."

Allie put her hands over her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry? What happened?"

He sighed. "I don't talk about it."

Freddie sat awkwardly as Sam and Allie talked to each other about things he didn't really care about, but it kind of reminded him of the old days—him and two girls. Of course, Allie was a bit hyper, and Sam took notes in classes, though she didn't always do all her work. Sam Auguston wasn't as violent as Sam Puckett, either.

Everything just was. Nothing was good, but nothing was horrible either. Freddie felt like he was just living in a state of absolute indifference.

The rest of the day was a blur. The next thing Freddie knew he was standing next to Sam in the car line in awkward silence.

"So," he said, trying to fill the void, "How long have you lived with Cecil and Edith?"

She started to look up, but paused. She made no eye contact with him. "Um, uh. . . Almost two years. Yeah."

"That's cool."

Cecil picked them up a few minutes later. Sam got into the front seat. "Hey Cecil!"

Freddie climbed into the back, and smiled politely at the old man. "Hello."

"How were your days? Freddie, do you mind the school too much?"

"Yes, sir, it's great!"

Sam coughed. "He hates it," she said under her breath, and coughed again.

"Freddie, after homework, you need to feed the cows and the horses."

Internally, Freddie huffed loudly and complained about it. Externally, he smiled and took the job happily.

When they got home, Sam put her bookbag in her room and was out of the door with a chunk of ham in her hand.

"I'm going riding, Cecil!" she called from the doorframe.

"Homework?" he yelled back.

"Later!"

She walked down the dirt road with her hands in her jacket pockets and the wind blowing through her very pink hair. She adjusted her glasses as she walked into the stables. She walked up to a horse the color of coal. She put her hand on his snout. "Hey Vegas. Wanna go riding?"

She unlatched the gate and beckoned Vegas out. "Come on!"

Twenty minutes later, Sam was on the back of the horse, riding through the road through the woods. She wasn't quite at a gallop, but not too slow, either.

Autumn was her favorite time for being in the woods. The trees turned red and gold and orange and it was like a giant sea of fiery colors. It was just relaxing.

When Sam got back to the stable, Freddie was feeding the horses. She got off of Vegas' back. "Hey."

"Hey, where have you been?"

"On a horse."

"Oh."

"Has Edith started dinner yet?" She took the saddle off of Vegas.

"Yeah. Breakfast for dinner, you know, bacon and stuff."

"_Don't you get it? You're Carly's bacon! She's not in love with you, she's in love with what you did?" Sam stands in front of Freddie, trying to make him see the truth in him and Carly's relationship. Freddie raises his eyebrows. "You just can't stand the idea of Carly and me as a couple!" Her face is entirely serious. "Very true. It makes me want to puke up blood."_

"Huh?" Sam looked around, the words 'It makes me want to puke up blood' ringing around in her head.

Freddie stares at her. "Baaacooon and stuuuuff." he says slowly.

"Oh. Okay."

After homework had been finished and dinner had been eaten, Sam went into Freddie's room out of boredom. "Hey. I'm bored."

He was sitting on the floor with his laptop on his lap. "Hey. What goes on?"

"Nothing." She sat down next to him and looked at his computer screen. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Nothing really, just the old iCarly site."

"Yeah," she said, examining the webpage, "That thing Allie was talking about?"

"Mmhmm."

He opened up a picture of him, a brunette girl, a blonde girl, a shirtless, chubby boy, and a man who looked like he was in his late twenties. The blonde had Freddie in a headlock, and the chubby boy seemed to be dancing. The brunette stood next to the man, hugging him.

"_I'm Carly!" "And I'm Sam!"_

"_And this is iCarly!" Sam presses a button on a small blue remote and the sounds of a cheering crowd fills the room._

"_Today on iCarly," says Sam_

"_We're going to play a little game called-" Carly continues._

_Sam presses another button on the remote, and a chorus sings, "Hey, hey, hey, hey, what am I licking?"_

Sam gasped, and Freddie's eyes shot to her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, what are you talking about?"

"Never mind." he put the cursor over the brunette. "That's Carly. The guy she's hugging is her brother, Spencer. He's an awesome artist. Shirtless kid? Gibby. Very, very strange. And that's Sam who's got me in a headlock."

Late that night, Sam sat with a flashlight, a journal, and a pen. She wrote only two words.

_I'm scared._

OOO

**This isn't my favorite chapter so far. I really don't like it too much… But I'm posting it anyway. Andrea/Squirrely, my beta, would like to tell all of you:**

**{Hey to the people! Squirrely here! How you doin? lol Make sure you review! Uh, well, Bye! Talk to you next time!}**

**So yeah. You are all the best, and I'm so thankful for all the awesome feedback I'm getting.**

**Love all of y'all!**

**-Lyra**


	5. Chapter 5

Splintered Lights

_Darkening Whispers_

**AN: Heeey people. I stayed up till like, two last night writing this, and Andrea beta'd it this morning. I like this chapter a lot—we see more of Carly. So, enjoy! Also, I don't own anything but the plot and OC's.**

OOO

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

Carly was on the computer, using PictureShop on the picture of Pink-Sam that Freddie had sent her. She removed the hand and arm, had mirrored one side of her face to fix the missing half of Pink-Sam's face, and was working on getting rid of the glasses. Hair would go last.

Spencer walked into the living room wearing a robe and holding a carton of milk.

"Spencer, I thought you had stopped bringing milk into the shower!"

Spencer opened the fridge and put the milk inside. "There's no orange juice, what am I supposed to eat my Randy-O's with? Root beer?"

"You eat Randy-O's in the shower?"

Spencer blushed deeply. "No. . ." He walked over to Carly. "Whatcha doing?"

"Oh, the family Freddie's living with has a daughter named Sam. Freddie says she acts like. . . old Sam. From what I can see of her face, she looks kind of like her, too. But her hair and glasses."

"Distract you from her face?"

"Exactly."

Spencer sighed. "Just. . . Carly . . . Don't get over excited, kiddo. This chick probably isn't Sam. She would have had a hard time pretending to not know Freddie, and Pam already had the, you know."

_The sky is gray, but there's no rain. Inside a church, Carly Shay stands at a podium, her voice cracked. "Sam. . . Sam was my best friend. She was the most amazing person I've ever known, a-and she wasn't just my friend. She was my sister."_

_Carly pauses, staring at the small crowd of black-clad friends and family members. "I will never, ever forget Sam, and even though she's gone, she'll always be my sister."_

_A tear trickles down her face, and she steps away from the podium, down steps, and sits back down next to Freddie and Melanie in a pew. Father McGurthy, the world's fattest priest, smiles at her from the altar, and she smiles back. Sam would have been ecstatic to find out the world's fattest priest was giving the sermon for her funeral._

_Freddie stands up for his speech. At the podium, he moves the microphone upward towards him, and clears his through._

"_So, um, I haven't really thought this speech out much, but I guess it's appropriate for the occasion. Sam, well, she never really thought things out. She never looked before she leaped, but that's what made her Sam. When she was around, nothing was ever boring. When she walked into a room, you could just feel the. . . the room light up. And even though she was aggressive, and beat me up for most of my life, I have no regrets of it. It's what made her her—my best friend. Sam Puckett was. . ." Freddie __chokes up, tears welling in his eyes. It looks like he's going to stop his speech and step down, but he doesn't. "S-Sam was th-the s-si-single greatest p-person I-I ever knew. May she n-never b-b-be f-forgotten."_

_When Freddie sits back down, tears are falling down his face. Sam didn't deserve a funeral. She could be out there. But it had been six months and Pam Puckett was too lazy to search anymore. She considered her daughter dead, and that was that. The missing person fliers were taken down; the search parties in cities as far as New York, Chicago, and New Orleans were told to stop. There should have been a trace of her. Something. A strand of hair or a fingerprint, at least._

_But it was like Samantha Puckett had never even existed._

"Spencer. Look." Carly saved the file quickly, and Spencer came over to the computer. It had been about an hour since Spencer had looked at it the first time, and the image reflected something they both dreaded.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. "Freddo's an idiot, isn't he?"

Carly merely nodded.

Because the image glowing on the computer screen looked very much like a certain Sam Puckett. It was a bit chopped looking, and the mirror effect on her face had made her features too well-proportionate, but it was the same golden ringlets and ocean-blue eyes.

Spencer spoke again. "We're idiots too, aren't we?"

"Uh-huh." She stared at the picture. ""How could I not have seen this before? How could Freddie have been so stupid and not actually looked at her face?"

Her brother considered this for a moment. "Her hair's too crazy."

Carly ran her fingers through her hair. "Now the question is, why did she run away, and how will we get her back?"

"That's the tough part."

She sighed. "I'm calling Gibby and Melanie. We need to talk about this."

"Why Melanie?"

She hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Because Melanie's her sister, duh!"

Spencer put a pot of water on the stovetop. "So you found out you best friend's alive. Why aren't you happier?"

"I don't know what happens next."

An hour later, six teens sat on the floor of the iCarly studio in a circle, talking in hushed voices. Carly, Gibby, Melanie, Wendy, Jake Crandle, and Reuben.

Carly was surprised when five people showed up at her doorstep, but since Melanie had transferred to Ridgeway after Sam disappeared, she started dating Jake, and she brought Wendy, who was her good friend. Reuben came with Gibby.

"So, everybody," Carly says to the others. "Um, so Freddie went to spend the fall at some house in the country, and well. . . He found. . ."

"What?" Wendy and Jake say at the same time, reminiscent of Carly's two best friends.

"Well, he doesn't know it. . . But Freddie found Sam."

~oOo~

A petite figure treads lightly on top of a puddle as she tries to run. She's holding a few books and folders, and she wears a gray hoodie that covers her head, black jeans, and gray ballet flats. It's raining, and every puddle, no matter how hard she tries, splashes around her feet.

She turns around a dark alleyway, and quietly opens up a rusted metal door. Inside is a long, dimly lit hallway. She walks down it, and opens a door, which leads to a cafeteria-looking kitchen.

"What are you doing?" she says, annoyed.

A gray-haired man looks up at her from the stove. "Cooking. What's up?"

Though she's younger, it's obvious where the authority lies. "Cooking? You're cooking? We have much more important things to be dealing with. Benson is with her! It won't be long before he finds out! The spy says he doesn't know it's her yet."

They man grins. "Good, then we can relax! I made fried fish!"

She walks over to him, picks up the pan on the stove, and throws it across the room. "There's cereal in the pantry! Stop being a dumbass, Ricky. Just because you were on the Food Channel, doesn't mean you're a good cook!"

He opens his mouth to defend himself, but can't think of anything.

Her voice is in a mocking tone now. "Oh, I'm Ricky Flame, look at me, I can cook! La, la, la, la!"

She pulls her hood down and stares at him with piercing eyes. Her auburn hair hangs around her face, somewhat wet. "Do you hear me? We are not done yet! Two years of supervision apparently isn't enough. Again, do you hear me?"

The man's voice is small. "Yes, Missy."

~oOo~

It was around three in the morning and Freddie had woken up, unable to fall back asleep. He decided to get some water from the kitchen, so he quietly opened his bedroom door and tiptoed out of his room. He passed up Sam's room, and saw that her door was open.

From the hallway, he could see her, sleeping peacefully. Her hair was sprawled out around her in a magenta halo, and her glasses were on the bedside table.

The face he saw in the room was not of Sam Auguston.

It was the unmistakable face of Sam Puckett.

OOO

**Did you liiiike it? I had a really hard time picking out who the voices were going to be. Missy and Nevel seems really overused, as does just Missy. I'm kind of worried about using Missy, but she seemed the most sensible.**

**I watch iSell Penny Tees last night. I was really disappointed, not just at the lack of Seddieness, but at Sam's character here. She's usually just a troublemaker, but this... this was evil. That's why I was too furious to write for Sam here, b/c I couldn't get Evil-Sam out of my mind. Ugh.**

**Also, a word from Andrea:**Hey to the peoples! I love this chapter! Hope you did too. Well, bye! -Squirrely

**Anyway, thanks for reading. I love all of you! Go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather, now! It's in the seventies here in NOLA, which is amazing for us. :D**

**Stay awesome, people.**

**-Lyra**


	6. Chapter 6

Splintered Lights

_Darkening Whispers_

**AN: Here is el chapter! I worked hard on this chapter, and I hope you like it! Thank you Randomness101-Seddie Fan for beta-ing as always. Check out her work, it's good!**

**I don't own iCarly. :(**

OOO

Melanie stared at her reflection. Her hair wasn't in a ponytail as usual, but fell in curls around her face.

"So this is what she looked like," she murmurs. Her room is quiet, but she can here nonsensical talk from her mother in the kitchen, and the booming bass of a car passing the house.

Carly had printed her a copy of the PictureShopped photo of Sam. She had trouble believing she could really be alive, but apparently it was true.

Melanie regretted never talking to her sister. She had run off, not giving a thought to Sam. She was so excited about boarding school that she had forgotten her sister left behind in Seattle. Then she was gone, and she never got to say goodbye. If she really was alive, Melanie was going to apologize. She was going to let her sister know that she really had cared, all these years.

Gibby had Lady Gaga playing loudly from his PearHome. Thank God Tasha wasn't around to see him dancing to girly music.

"Can't read my, can't read my, no you can't read my POKER FACE!" Gibby sang at the top of his lungs. He was shirtless and jumping on his bed, dancing. "Puh-puh-puh Poker Face, Puh-puh POKER FACE!"

He fell backwards, plopping down off his bed, and turned down the music. He was in charge of Part One of Operation Save Sam. He picked up his phone and called Freddie.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Hello?"

"Hey Freddie, it's Gibby."

"Gibby! Uh, what's up?"

"Meh. . . Nothing really. Just seeing how you were doing."

"I'm fine, I guess."

"Awesomesauce! Wouldn't it be awesome if me and Carly could come visit?"

"Yeah, it would."

"Yup."

"Maybe I'll talk to the people I'm staying with about it."

"Dude, you have to."

"Okay, okay. Carly and you and maybe Spencer?"

"Yeah!"

"Cool. I'll talk about it. I'll text you later about it or something."

"Uh, okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Gibby ended the call, and leaped off his bed like a ninja. "GIBBEH!"

~oOo~

Freddie had Sam cornered. He wasn't going to say anything until they were alone and she couldn't run away.

Now they were. Cecil had dropped them off at the Store to get some ice cream. It was an old-fashioned general store, reminiscent of something from _Where_ _the Red Fern Grows_, or something like that. The floors and walls were wood, and besides food, candles and blankets and homemade items were for sale. Sam went looking for root beer, and Freddie pretended to look at birthday cards for a moment. Once he couldn't see her, he looked around, and quietly found the girl in the back corner. She didn't see him, and he grabbed her shirt collar fiercely.

"What's your problem, Puckett?"

Sam grabbed at his hand, trying to make him release his grip. "What are you talking about? Let go of me!"

His eyes met hers with fury. "You know what I'm talking about! Why did you run? Why did you leave us?"

Her face shocked and fearful. "I don't know what you're talking about! You. . . You think I'm the Sam you used to know, don't you?"

Freddie loosened his grip. "I know you are. Aren't you?"

She bit down on her lower lip. "I don't know. I could be."

"What do you mean, you could be? I mean, you're Puckett or you're not!"

"Not necessarily."

"Take off your glasses."

She scoffed. "Why?"

"Just take them off!"

Sam followed his order, and took off her glasses. The world went from crystal to blobs of color. She blinked a few times, and Freddie took out his camera. With a click and a flash, the picture was taken, and Sam put her glasses back on. Freddie pulled out his wallet and flipped through the pictures.

"Who's that, your grandkids?" Sam asked, looking over his shoulder.

"No," he said, and pulled out a picture of a blonde haired girl, who was sitting on a couch with a bowl of soup on her lap. She was grinning. He held the camera next to it, and it showed the picture Freddie had just taken.

"Sam Puckett, you. Sam Puckett, you. See the resemblance?"

_She's in a tiny room with Carly and Freddie. She's angry and all she can feel is the ache in her stomach, which begs for food. "Dude, if I don't get some food in the next hour, I'm gonna eat Freddie!"_

_Freddie looks at the crazy girl who stands outside the window. "Get her some food, Nora!"_

"I need root beer!" Sam opened the door of a cooler and pulled out a frosty bottle.

"Why are you lying to me, Sam?"

She let out a deep breath. "I'm not lying. I could be the Puckett girl, I could not. I don't know!"

Freddie slammed his hand down on a table covered in candy bars and gum, causing them to rattle. "How do you not know?"

She pulled him into a secluded corner and places her hands on his shoulders. "What I'm about to tell you is known by three people in the world." She closes her eyes for a moment, thinking if it's right to tell him or not. When she opens them again, she sees a very confused brunette boy in front of her. "A year ago, I woke up on the side of the road. I was wearing a ratty t-shirt and I couldn't see a thing and my hair was pink! Cecil found me. He picked me up and brought me to his house. I couldn't remember my name, or how I got on the side of the road, or anything! Once I got my glasses, the words '_Your name is Sam'_ were written really faintly on my hand. I had a name, that's it! And I've started from there! I don't want to know who I am! Yeah, I'm curious, but being found. . . It'll destroy the life I have now! I'm happy with Cecil and Edith, and I don't want to have to leave them! I don't know anything about who I was, or what I was like, or even my natural hair color! I don't want to know, Freddie. Please."

His eyes are welling up with tears. "I lost my best friend. I want to find her."

"Don't you get it?" She laughs cruelly. "Even if I was her, she doesn't exist anymore. I'm Sam Auguston, no one else!" She left, pulling a five dollar bill out of her pocket. She handed it to the twenty-something year old man at the register, and he gave her the change. "Thanks, Danny."

Sam stormed out, and Freddie followed her, protesting. "Please, Sam! Can't you just give this a chance? Please! You can't just throw away most of your life! Don't you want to know what kind of a kid you were? Or what you liked to do? What your favorite color was, or what you wanted to be? What your friends names were, or who your favorite teachers were? What your favorite Christmas present was, or who your favorite band was? The first guy you ever liked, your first kiss, you don't want to know?"

"Of course I want to know, but I don't want to find out this way!" The wind whips her fuchsia locks around her face, and her icy blue eyes pierce into his brown. She looks away. "Call Cecil. Tell him to come pick us up."

"We were supposed to get ice cream!"

"Too late."

Sam felt sick. This was too much for her. By the time Cecil pulled into the parking lot, which was just gravel and dirt, her head was pounding and too many thoughts were running through her head. Scenes came flashing across her sight, or people and places she'd never even seen.

_She runs into the Shay apartment, taco in hand. "Freddie's hurt!" she shouts to Spencer, who's pulling a pizza out of the oven._

_She strides out of the dressing room, wearing a shimmering pink dress. "I feel hot." Carly stumbles out of the next dressing room, wearing a robe. "I feel violated!"_

_She collapses onto her best friends couch, sobbing loudly. "I don't like working! I don't know how people do it! It's horrible! They don't let you sleep, or watch TV, or go online, and they expect you to be nice to all the customers! And I'm not even allowed to eat the chili! Do you know what it's like to be me, surrounded by giant pots of chili and not allowed to eat it?"_

_She meets Principal Franklin for her Tuesday appointment. The man smiles when she walks in. "Hello, Sam."_

_She stares back. "Mornin' Ted."_

"_Sam. . ."_

_She grins unconvincingly. "Good morning, Principal Franklin!"_

_She argues with Freddie. "I can read a book."_

_His face is unconvinced. "Name three books you've read."_

"_Boogie Bear One, Boogie Bear Two, and Boogie Bear Three: The Return of Boogie Bear"_

Sam was about ready to pull out her hair. It was too much. She knew she was Sam Puckett—she was just afraid to be.

"I can't do this!" Her scream reverberated through the car. "You're right, Benson, you're right! I'm her, okay! Just don't do this to me! Forget it!"

Cecil and Freddie both stared at her like she's Justin Bieber dressed like an elephant and trying to dance a polka.

Cecil placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sam. Sammy. Calm down. We're going home."

She curled up into a ball and sobbed into her knees. "I can't. . . Everything's wrong. . . I want to go home. . ."

The car rumbled down the road a bit faster, trying to get the girl home. Freddie sat in the back, feeling like the worst person in the world. He had broken her, and watched her fall into the mess of emotions that sat in the front seat of the car. It was unnatural and wrong.

~oOo~

"Tie her arms and legs; she'll try to run again." Missy walked in circles around the girl in the center of the room. "Dear, we won't pay you and we'll hurt you and your family if you don't talk. So it's best for everyone if you do."

Ricky smiled maliciously at her. "How much does she know?"

The girl spluttered as Missy kicked the side of her torso. Her dirty blonde hair fell in strings around her face. "Nothing more than last time, as far as I know. She hasn't said anything!"

Missy kicked her again. "You heard the man, don't lie! How much does she know?"

"Her name, that the Freddie kid was on a webshow, um, I think she's seen a few pictures of her old self, heard a few stories. Freddie doesn't recognize her."

The third time Missy's foot met the girl's side, she blacked out. The last thing that ran through her mind was, "Dying is the last thing on my mind. Fixing this is."

OOO

**Ooookay. I know Sam was OOC in this chapter, with her panic attack and everything, but remember: she's Sam Auguston. She's been raised completely differently. :)**

**Ricky's story will be revealed later on. I'm excited about him. **

**So, I have exams this week, so don't expect any updates. Please do wish me luck/pray for me! If I get good grade, I'm gonna be on honor roll for the first time since fifth grade! :O**

**I would really like some constructive criticism. If I don't get it, I can't write better! And I I can't write better, this story's writing quality will stay average.**

**I lovelovelove all of you, so until next time,**

**-Lyra**


	7. Chapter 7

Splintered Lights

**I don't own iCarly. Or anything else you recognize.**

OOO

_Ring. Ring._

_Ring._

_Ringringring._

"Ugh." Freddie grumbled into his pillow as his phone rang. He felt around his nightstand for it. Once located he grabbed it and answered it.

"Hello?" he yawned.

"_Hey Freddie. It's Carly."_

"Hey, Carly. What's up?"

"_So, you know how Gibby wanted to know if we could all come visit?"_

"Yeah?"

"_Spencer said we could! Did you ask the people?"_

"Um. . . There's been a change of plans. You guys can't exactly come. . ."

"_Aww. . . Freddie, why?"_

"It's a long story."

"_I like long stories. I have time!"_

"Oh, hey, look at the time! I have to go eat dinner!"

"_It's nine o' clock in the morning!"_

"Uh, time zones?"

"_We're both in Washington!"_

"Okay, see you in a few months! Bye Carly!"

"_What? Freddie, what the hell? Are you avoidi-"_

The phone line broke off and Freddie, now awake, punched his pillow. "Aaagh!" Carly couldn't come here, not now! He couldn't ruin Sam's life like that. Because he was a nice person. . . most of the time. He needed to find a way to get away from this place and back to Seattle sooner, so he could just forget about Sam Auguston/Puckett and go off to college and marry some nice girl (preferably Carly, though he thought of her more as a friend these days) and have three kids and die old and wrinkled on the front porch while the sun was setting.

That would be nice.

Sort of.

Maybe.

He trudged out of bed and into the kitchen. Edith was cooking pancakes, and Cecil and Sam sat at the kitchen table eating. The blonde… er… pink had a stack of about six pancakes covered in golden syrup and coffee (with cream and lots of sugar). Cecil was reading the paper and picking pieces off of his pancakes, which had nothing to top them.

Edith looked over at him as she flipped a pancake over. "Good morning!" she smiled. Cecil nodded at him.

Sam gave him a look of complete and utter loathing. There were dark circles under her eyes, and they were red and puffy. Her pink hair was in a messy bun on the top of her head, and her glasses were missing.

"Freddie," said Edith, as Freddie sat down, "will you be okay here by yourself? Cecil's volunteering at the fire station in town today to go talk about fire safety to some kids, and I have to take Sammy to get new glasses." She motioned her head to the broken glasses on the countertop. One of the lenses was shattered.

"_I hate this! I hate this!" Sam was in the corner of her room with Edith, who tried to comfort her._

"_Sweetie. . . Honey. It's okay. It's okay."_

_She laughed as she cried. "Really? Really? He knew me! I was a person! I had friends and family and someone did this to me!"_

_Edith sighed sadly. "That's not true."_

"_The why do I have fucking pink hair when I was blonde and fucking glasses when I had perfect vision?" She ripped the glasses off her face and threw them across the room. Edith heard a small crack as the shattered. "I had people in my life that I loved and they're not there anymore!"_

"_Sammy. You need to calm down."_

"_I can't, Edith!" She put her head against Edith's shoulder._

"_Ham and milk?"_

_Sam sniffed. "M-maybe. . . That'd be nice."_

"_I'll go preheat the oven."_

Late that night, after Sam had calmed down and eaten ham with Edith, she sat in her room with her computer on her lap and her broken glasses balanced delicately on the edge of her nose.

She was on iCarly, looking at old videos. This one was called, "Random Debates: Medicine Versus Garbage". She sat in a kiddy pool with Freddie, defending the awesomeness of garbage.

Every video she watched; every picture she looked at—they made the memories come flooding back. The time she met the Plain White T's. The time she and Carly started the petographer business. Random Debates. iHave A Question. Pathetic Plays.

She read her blogs. All the crazy things she had done. She wasn't completely like Puckett. Puckett was a delinquent. Sam had gotten detention twice, that's it. Puckett got horrible grades and was ridiculously vicious. She wasn't really like that. Then again, she was Puckett, just like she was Sam Auguston, and the line between the two was blurring quickly. All that was left was the few missing memories, the blank spot of how she ended up on the street, and the persistence that kept her Sam Auguston. She couldn't just. . . let herself go, and be the person she only started remembering days ago. She wasn't going to just go back to Seattle. Maybe she could just stay here with Edith and Cecil, not cause any drama.

But that would probably cause drama.

~oOo~

"He's not letting us come!"

"What?" The word chorused from four of her friends, except for Reuben, who said, "You ate an electric socket made of turkey?"

Carly sighed. "He made up some really bad lie about having to eat dinner. He said we couldn't come!"

Wendy sat down on Carly's couch and pulled her feet up to her chest. "This sucks. I wanted this to work!"

"Does anybody have their license yet?" said Jake, sitting down on the floor.

"No."

"In a month."

"Not for seven sock monkeys!"

"Got a permit."

Carly glared at Melanie. "We all have permits!"

Jake's face turned a violent shade of pink. "Not me. . ."

"What?" Wendy started laughing. "Dude, you're a senior!"

"So?"

"You've had four years to take that test!"

"I've. . . taken it. A few times. . ."

Gibby raised his eyebrows. "Dude. I passed the test the first time, and I'm Gibby. Even Rip-Off Rodney passed, and he's an idiot!"

"We could always ask Spencer." said Carly from her place on the sofa next to Wendy, "I think he'd be willing."

Gibby stood up and ripped off his shirt. "We gonna save us some Sam Puckett!"

"Gibby," said Carly, "put your shirt back on."

"You can't fight the awesome that is GIBBEH!"

"Yes. We can."

Gibby put his shirt back on.

~oOo~

A dirty-brown haired teenage girl sat in a small white room, furnished with only a small cot. There were no windows and one door, which was locked from the outside. She was huddled on the cot, and a drop of blood fell from her eyebrow, where Missy had kicked her. She heard a small _click_ from the door, and a middle aged man walked in with a tray. Ricky Flame.

"I brought you food. Not bread and water. If you want it."

"What I want is to spend my weekends at home. Not here being tortured by you people!"

Ricky placed the tray on the floor. It was fried fish and Peppy Cola. "I'm sorry."

"You? You're sorry? Then tell me, why are you here? If you're sorry, why are you helping _her_?"

He sighed, and sat down on the floor with his legs crossed. "Back in the day, about two years ago, I was a Food Channel chef."

"I'm aware of that." The girl rolled her eyes.

"I did this show, Food Fight. I never lost. Ever. One day, the challenge was to make spaghetti tacos. They were a thing on the webshow iCarly. So I challenged the iCarly kids. And, well, I lost. I had never lost anything before. And now a bunch of teenage kids had crossed the line. They made better food than me! I thought I was a bad chef. So I went into this weird depression. I couldn't get out of bed, I was crying. . . Then I went to a kid's wrestling group. I insisted they let me wrestle the kids. I never lost. Then the iCarly kids showed up. They tried to knock some sense into me, but I didn't listen. Sam Puckett attacked me and pinned me to the ground. I lost. After that, I just hated the kid. In my mind, she was out to get me. I thought she hated me or something; I thought she was evil. I wanted revenge, I wanted it so badly! That's when it really started."

The girl's angry expression had melted away to mere curiosity. She sipped on her Peppy Cola as Ricky Flame told her the rest of his tale.

OOO

**Duh, duh, duh... Actually, this chapter doesn't need that, I don't think I ended with a cliffhanger. Anyway, this is chapter seven. Did you enjoy it? Hate it? How do you think my writing style is? I NEED CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM! I have no idea if this is the best it can be or not. Any ideas for future chapters?**

**Also, who do you think the spy is (the girl Ricky's talking to.) She has been seen in the story, if you need a hint.**

**Who's excited for iDo tonight? I know I am! :D I hope it doesn't disappoint, I've heard Seddie Slow Dance rumors, but don't know if they're true. We really don't want another iBeat the Heat kind of thing.**

**I am soooo happy with all the amazing reviews I've been getting! I really love all of you and wish you an amazing Columbus Day (again, what's the point of this holiday?) and remember to stay awesome!**

**-Lyra**

**Hi! This is randomness 101-Seddie Fan! I'm her beta. And while I was betaing (that's probably not a word…) I decided to write a Hey To The People!**

**So..**

**HEY TO THE PEOPLE!**

**I'm done.**

**BYE. Until next time…. O.o**

**Oh! Review! That's good to do…**

_**Now**_** I'm done.**

**:D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Splintered Lights**

**AN: I own nothing.**

**OOO**

_Dear Diary,_

_Uh... hi. I'm not really sure what to write in here. I guess... I dunno, I'll write about myself. My name's Sam Auguston. I live in Henrystone, Washington, with Cecil and Edith York. I wasn't allowed to have the same last name as them cause of the whole foster thing._

_See, I don't know who I am. I lost my memory. I woke up on a road, and Cecil picked me up. I've been living with him and his wife for a few months now, and I've been going to school, and everybody think I'm their foster kid._

_Anyway, I'm pretty sure that I'm 14ish, and we decided my birthday's in February, so I'm turning 15 in a few months. I have bright pink hair (I have no idea what my natural color is, I dye it too often to find out), and I'm pretty much blind, so I have so wear glasses, ugh._

_I lovelovelove ham! It's the best meat ever. And I love rock music, Brad Pitt (cause he's the sexiest old guy ever), and Cecil and Edith._

_So, since this is my first diary entry ever... well... Idunno._

_I'll write later, I guess._

_-Sam_

_Dear Diary,_

_Today is Thanksgiving! :DDD Me and Edith and Cecil are headed down to the 'burbs of Seattle, ugh, which is like, a million miles away. Their kids and grandkids live there. They didn't like me much. First of all was all the freaking out over my hair. Then was the "where the hell did she come from, mom?" from their daughter. Her granddaughter is a year younger than me, and a prissy little snob. She made fun of my hair and glasses and then "accidentally" dropped her pecan pie on my favorite shirt._

_I don't see how these people are related. The daughter and her husband finally accepted me, and talked to me a little, asked me about my life. I never thought I was such a good liar, some of the things I made up on spot. :)_

_So we left and I'm sitting in the backseat of their car eating leftover turkey from a plastic bag and writing in this thing._

_Christmastime starts in a few days, super excited for my "first" Christmas!_

_-Sam_

_Dear Diary,_

_Me end Cecil went out into the woods and got our Christmas tree! We drove out and it was snowing, and we found a tree and cut it down. It's too tall for our house, and squishes up against the ceiling, but we put lights and ornaments on it and it's really pretty._

_Not much else to say today._

_-Sam_

Freddie felt horrible for snooping. But he had been alone in the house, and the little red notebook had been left out in plain sight; it was so, so, so tempting to just take a peek. Freddie hadn't been rational, and now he sat on Sam's floor, reading her ultra-personal diary.

He felt badass, in a very guilty way.

The past few weeks had been so stressful it was agonizing. Certainly, he shouldn't have been stressed. He hadn't fed any farm animals or cleaned up their poo in weeks, after Cecil decided he was no good for farm work

_"Uh, sir, is-is there anything I can do?" _

_Cecil laughs. "No, son, there isn't. We decided you're such a city kid that there's not much you can do on a farm. I was really better off doin' it myself. Just get yourself some fresh air, kid, okay?"_

_Freddie is slightly appalled. "Uh, yes sir, I guess." It was such a sudden, strange decision. What was the point of having him around anyway? _

Freddie chuckled at the memory. It was the one positive thing that happened recently. Sam stopped talking to him most of the time, and it made it very awkward to talk to anyone in the house.

Life, at this moment, sort of sucked.

He skipped to the most recent entry in the journal. There was no "Dear diary" or anything. The page held only two simple words.

_I'm scared._

The boy snapped the notebook shut and walked out of Sam's room.

~oOo~

'''Cause baby you're a fiiiiirework, come on show 'em what you're worth!"

Carly sat in the front seat of Spencer's rental minivan, singing along to radio with Wendy and Melanie, who sat in the two middle seats.

"Make 'em go ah, ah, ah, as you shoot across the sky, sky, sky!"

Spencer decided to throw in a few words here and there, making the two boys in the back (Rueben was too busy to come) very, very annoyed at the four singing.

They were driving along the outskirts of Seattle, on their rescue mission, as they called it. They were headed to Henrystone, population eighteen, in a minivan stocked with cheese sandwiches, spaghetti sauce and tortilla chips (spaghetti tacos on the go!), a twelve-pack of Peppy Cola, and a PearPod with 5,000 of Carly and Spencer's favorite songs, for when the radio dies down. Carly leaned into the backseat and pulled out a Peppy Cola, popped the top, and took a sip of the fizzing brown liquid. She caught Jake and Gibby's glares, and laughed. It wasn't going to be a bad day.

~oOo~

Ally stepped out of a black car with deeply tinted windows and onto the sidewalk.

"Thanks, kid," said the girl's voice from inside the car, "See you next weekend."

Ally rubbed the inside of her write. "You're welcome." She turned around and walked out of Missy's sight, into the clustered jumble of apartment buildings before her. Missy chuckled.

"Step on it, Ricky."

And he did.

~oOo~

It was later in the evening, and the sun was casting rosy glows on the land. Freddie stared at the girl who sat under the draping leaves of the willow tree. Her hair cast a shadow over her face, but he could see her fierce eyes glaring at him. She was only a few feet away, but when she spoke, it startled him.

"What do you want, Freddie?"

He sighed, and shook his head slowly. "I—I don't know. Sam. . . Sam I'm sorry. I never should have dragged you into this" He parted the leaves of the tree and sat down in the shadows next to her.

The girl hugged her knees up to her chest. "Well, I guess I could have handled the whole situation better." She let out a small laugh.

'"Not true. I would have been way more traumatized by the whole thing."

The two sat for a moment, watching the sun set over the hills, their faces shrouded in darkness. The wind rustled the branches of the tree that covered them. Finally, Sam spoke.

"Freddie?"

"Hm?"

"When you go back to Seattle, I want to come visit. Only for a few days, really, but. . . I really want to, you know, go back to where I apparently grew up." She smiled slightly, and adjusted her glasses, which had fallen down her nose. "I want to put together this puzzle, but I just have to find the missing pieces. I think I'll find them in Seattle."

Freddie's lips widened into a grin. "You don't have to just come visit. You could come back."

Sam looked at the ground. "I don't think I can go back. Not forever, at least. I'd miss it here, and it'd be weird. Like starting over again. I couldn't do that, not again. But I'd like to meet Carly. And all the other people too, if they haven't forgotten me."

"Trust me," said Freddie, "they haven't."

And when Freddie opened the front door at exactly 9:07 that night, Sam found that to be true.

A smiling brunette named Carly had just walked into the hurricane that was their lives.

OOO

**Hey people. Sorry for the long update. This chapter may not be perfect, my beta, Andrea, is ridiculously busy with her story right now, and I don't want to burden her with mine. So this may not be perfect. Thanks so much for the awesome reviews, do y'all know how much I love you? So that's about it, hope you enjoyed this chapter! -Lyra**


	9. Chapter 9

**Splintered Lights**

_I don't own iCarly. Sigh._

OOO

_You were the fighter  
I was the kid against the world  
I heard there's nothing gonna hold you down  
I'll use a lighter so you can see what isn't there  
We'll swing at air  
Swinging off eventually you're bound  
Bound to the ground _

"Freddie, what the hell? And Sam. Why, Sam? We were best friends! And you just go and abandon us?"

A brunette girl named Carly stood in the kitchen holding a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Sam sat on the cold tiled floor, and Freddie at the table. The pink-haired girl's eyes were red. Spencer, Melanie, Wendy, Gibby, Jake, Cecil, and Edith were in the living room, also with hot chocolate. They weren't going to interfere with the conversation going on.

Sam's eyes were red behind her glasses. "Look, Carly, I don't know you."

Carly's voice was harsh. "Of course you do! We're best friends."

"I don't know you. I'm not who you think I am."

The brunette laughed. "Okay then. Who are you? If you're not Sam Puckett, then who the _hell_ are you?"

"Sam Auguston."

"Then where's Sam Puckett? Do you know her? 'Cause you look like her!"

"Sam Puckett doesn't exist."

And that was that.

~oOo~

She sat in the corner of her room that night, curled up in a ball, her dirty blonde hair hanging in strings around her face.

"I'm not a bad person, I'm not a bad person. I am loved. I am loved."

But who could ever think that, when the mother and father of this girl lay, only one room away, dead?

~oOo~

_You swear you recall nothing at all  
That could make you come back down  
You made up your mind to leave it all behind  
Now you're forced to fight it out_

You fall away from your past  
But it's following you 

"She doesn't exist? Then who's the girl I grew up with? Who's the girl who was my best friend until ninth grade when she disappeared? We gave her a funeral. A funeral!"

Freddie finally spoke from his place at the table. "Carly. . . You don't get it."

Carly rolled her eyes. "I bet you're having some three month romance with Miss Auguston here and don't want me to-"

Sam and Freddie spoke at the same time. "No, of course not!"

"You have to be Sam! Only Sam ever talked at the same time as Freddie without meaning to!"

Sam looked at Carly, then at Freddie. "Jinx, you owe me a Fat Shake." She eyes went back to Carly's. "See, just a coincidence. Now, you can get out of my house, and take the dork and your other friends with you, or you can shut up and listen me." She stood up, her hands shaking. "Did you think you had any right coming here. Carly Shay, I don't know you, so why do you think you can just come here? Why do you think you can come invade into someone's home and life? Because, in case you didn't know, I have a life, and my own agenda, and you aren't in it."

Carly's mouth opened, about to object, but the other girl in the room silenced her. "Shut up! I'm not who you think I am. I was Sam Puckett, years ago, but you really think I'd have abandoned having a life? No! Carly, I can't remember it, okay? I'm Sam Auguston now, and I'm not turning back."

"Please." Carly's voice trembled, and her eyes glistened with tears.

Sam's magenta hair blew around her face, and her eyes narrowed. "Get out. And take them all with you." She looked at Freddie. "You too. Leave."

And so they did.

~oOo~

Ricky regretted everything. And all that regret was about to grow. He had never done this much wrong in his entire life. Heartbeatheartbeat. Footstep. Heartbeart.

It was either this, or death.

When an old woman opened the door of a small blue cottage, he didn't look at her face.

It was all too much pain. Too much regret.

~oOo~

_All I wanted to say  
All I wanted to do  
Has fallen apart now  
All I wanted to feel  
I wanted to love  
Its all my fault now  
A Tragedy I fear_

Allie threw her blue bike to the gravelly ground, which stirred up dust around her feet. Her chest pounded. She was going to admit it to Sam, and apologize. She was going to make things right. She had lied to Missy, and lost her parents. There wasn't anything else to lose anymore. Allie ran up the white wooden front steps and knocked on the front door.

No answer.

Her heart pounding furiously, she opened the front door. It was silent, until she heard a low moan, and followed it, finding Sam lying on the kitchen floor. Her blue eyes met Allie's. "Seattle. Bushwell Plaza. Apartment 8-C. Please."

~oOo~

_And the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone but it goes to waste  
Could it be worse?_

When Spencer opened the door, he saw three faced he hadn't expected. One was of Sam Auguston, her arms cut, and a deep gash running down her collarbone. She was grasping onto the another girl with dirty blond hair. Cecil was coughing and clutching his stomach.

The girl who's name Spencer didn't know was the only one to say anything. "Please. My name is Allie. Sam told me to come here. I. . . I got directions on my phone, she remembered the building and apartment number. I've been driving for hours. Sam's hurt. Cecil's weak. Edith. . . Edith is dead."

**OOO**

**If there's any mistakes, could you point them out? This chapter didn't get edited, my beta, Squirrely, is out of town... What'd you think of the chapter? Love it? Hate it? Review! I'd love constructive criticism! Thanks so much for the awesome reviews! I two amazing reviews from _DiamondsInTheRough101 _and _kalyn19_, which both had me in tears. I love all of you, and I'm so glad you all like the story. **

**Also, a question. I don't know if I want to go in the SeddieCouple direction, or the SeddieFriendship direction. I'm afraid if I make it couple, it'll be ruined. Check out My Little Ballerina, and you'll see that I suck at coupley, sappy, romantic stuff. But also, friendship can be a bit boring... I want this to exciting and awesome. I'm getting really fond of this story, and I'm worried that I'm gonna screw it up. I need help, people! Please! :O**

**-Lyra**


	10. Chapter 10

**Splintered Lights**

_My Heart is a Battleground_

(Yeah, penname change!)

Wow. Just wow. I haven't written the chapter yet, but I thought I'd go ahead and write this ahead of time.

Y'all... I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I've been putting this story off, playing too many video games, and wallowing in my own self-pity.

I'm pathetic.

But I am writing again, finally. So I decided, after many long months, to come back to the dark land that is Splintered Lights. I reread it, captured the emotion again, reread all my reviews, got a big writing ego (you can't be a good writer unless you believe you're a good writer, right?), and as of right now, have no idea what's gonna happen. Yep.

So maybe I should start writing. I'll take it from there.

OOO

There was once a girl who had hair the color of bubblegum. Bubblegum is a bright, happy sort of thing, but this girl was anything but bright and happy. This girl's name was Sam Auguston, and she was standing on the fine line between sorrow and apathy.

Sam felt herself leaning more towards apathy as Spencer Shay handed her a mug of steaming cocoa. She was curled up on the Shay's sofa next to Cecil, her arms wrapped in bandages, resting her head of his shoulder. Freddie and Carly stood on the base of the stairs, staring down at them with fearful eyes. The girl tugged on Freddie's shirtsleeve, and gestured him up the stairs. When they were out of sight inside Carly's room, she glared at him.

"Freddie. I'm going to be calm about this. I need an explanation. I have no idea why you refuse to speak to me about this!"

Freddie slammed his hand down on the ground beside him. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know! I just know that she lost her memory. . . I didn't think there'd be some huge conspiracy or whatever the hell is going on! Do you think I expected anybody to die? Carly. . . I-I just don't know what to tell you. Where's Allie?"

Carly tucked a lock of her chocolate hair behind her ear. "In the iCarly studio, why?"

"She'll have answers. Why didn't she come in here?"

"She didn't want to."

"Oh."

Freddie and Carly found Allie lying in the seat of the fake car, her legs draped over the side and her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes were shut in a way that made the two unable to tell if she was asleep or not.

Carly bent down so she was at eye level with the girl. "Allie? Uh. . . Allie?"

Allie's eyes shot open, and she looked around in confusion. "Huh? Where am- Mom? Dad? What's going- Oh, sorry. I was half asleep." She adjusted herself into a sitting position. "What's up?"

Freddie pulled out the old beanbags from the hallway and sat three of them in a triangle. He looked over at Allie and said sternly, "I think we need to discuss the situation we're in."

The dirty-blonde looked down. "Fine. But you have to promise me something."

"Yeah?"

"You make sure the people responsible for this are punished." Allie climbed out the car and sat down on the pink beanbag next to Carly and Freddie.

Freddie glanced at Carly, who was staring at the other girl in the room.

"In middle school I was known as the best liar in the school. Remember that movie, Big Overweight Liar? Yeah, I got compared to the kid in that a lot. I could make up stories off the top of my head, and better yet, they were believable. I could get away with never doing my homework, and I could get school lunches without paying a dime. And for some reason, they always believed me. Yeah, the teachers pretty much thought I came from some dysfunctional family with no money, but I was fine with that."

Carly bit down on her lip. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Just listen. One day, when I came home from school, a middle aged man and a girl my age were sitting on my living room couch. My parents weren't home, and they told me they needed me. The girl. . . she had gone literally crazy."

"What was her name?" Freddie asked this in a slightly shaking voice.

"Missy Robinson."

Carly gasped. "What?"

Allie shot her a fierce look. "Shut up and let me tell you my story! So, the man told me that she had been trapped on a freighter boat for six months with awful seasickness and workers constantly yelling at her to get out of their way. . . It drove her crazy. She wanted revenge."

Freddie's eyes widened. "Th-this is my fault?"

Allie stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I'm the one who put her on that boat."

~oOo~

_Month 5, Day 17_

_It's been a four months and seventeen days since I got on this boat. Another day. Another day. Day after day after day._

_The men, the fucking men._

_I am going to murder every one of them. I WILL find a way. They scream at me constantly for being seasick. Sometimes one of them get close to me and corner me, tell me things that they want to do to me. . . I kicked them in the balls and run._

_I can't get away from it. It's like Hell. A living Hell that Puckett condemned me to._

_Puckett did this to me. I will ruin her life forever. _

Ricky ran his fingers over the page. Missy was out, and he was planning his escape. He still held on to a bit of his humanity, and he wanted to keep it. He spent all that time listening to this girl, this little girl! He thought she was right. The Puckett girl had ruined both of their lives; she deserved to have her life ruined too!

Before, Ricky had felt himself slipping as Missy had. He murdered without any second thoughts.

"I'm a monster," he muttered under his breath, and snapped Missy's diary closed.

OOO

Huh. I'm okay with this chapter. It's better than nothing, right? I do think my writing skills have gone down the toilet since then.

This hasn't been edited, for some reason my beta hasn't been talking to me. If any of you would like to volunteer to help me out with this and beta, I'd appreciate it a lot.

And about chapter nine, I know it was a little confusing. That's the point. I'm feeling that it's going into darker territory than it started out.

Oh, and a note: just because Edith is dead, doesn't mean we won't be seeing more of her in the near future. I'm also going to finish Allie's story up, and then focus on Miss Auguston, who didn't get much attention this chapter.

Just wait and see! *is very excited*

Your reviews keep me going *hint hint* and make my day better with each one. You guys motivate me to write, even when I'm feeling unmotivated. I have lots of plans for this story. Thank y'all so much!

-Lyra


	11. Chapter 11

Splintered Lights

….

This should be the part where I apologize for abandoning this story. But I won't. Because I'm back now. Just go read.

OOO

A bit of time and some good food, Edith had always said, could cure anything. It could make the sick healthy, the elderly young, and the saddened happy. She had believed that wholeheartedly. Time cures sicknesses (though chicken noodle soup does help it along the way). A delicious meal can bring back fond memories of their youth to people who have left it far behind. And who can't smile after eating a delicious piece of pie? Food and time were the best cure in the world, Edith believed.

Sam, on the other hand, had decided that Edith was wrong.

Food and time couldn't do her any good now.

Sam was walking down the rainy streets of Seattle. The hood of her jacket was up, keeping both the water and attention away from her hair; her shoes weren't as lucky. Even the slightest puddle would splash up with a tiny _plish_, making her feet damp with every step. The lights of the cars and streetlamps reflected down onto the pavement in bright, blurry streaks, making the road look less like—well, a road—and more like the painting of an eccentric abstract artist.

She turned into a nearby corner store. It was one of those sketchy kinds of places that you only see in cities, where there is clearly some kind of illegal activity going on somehow (though it's never clear _what_, exactly, that illegal activity is), and most people would avoid for fear of getting shot (though the chances of that are pretty unlikely). The man standing at the cash register glanced up at her. What in the world was a teenage girl doing in here at night? She was definitely no teenage girl he'd ever seen. Is it normal for them to have hair like that? Pink wasn't a normal color, was it? He shrugged it off and lit his cigarette, despite the blatant "no smoking" sign that was located just above his head. She browsed for a few minutes, flipping through several magazines and comparing multiple different types of beef jerky.

The girl stepped up to the cash register, with a pack of teriyaki beef jerky and one roll of a certain type of chewy mint, in the fruit variety. He scanned her items.

He stuck what was left of his cigarette in an asktray. "That'll be two fifty-three."

"Mmhmm."

She fished three crumpled one-dollar bills out of her back pocket and placed them in front of him. Her gaze was blank and emotionless, her voice monotone. "You can keep the change."

Sam unwrapped the chewy-fruity-mints and popped one in her mouth as she walked out. The candy was sweet.

Candy.

Candy.

_Candy_.

That had been her name for a day. Candy.

She spat out the mint and dropped it on the ground as she walked. At the next garbage bin she passed, the rest of the roll was gone, too.

Sam truthfully didn't know what she was feeling. It wasn't exactly sorrow, nor was it anger, nor fear. Really, she couldn't say she was really feeling anything. She just didn't want to think about any of it. She didn't want to remember anything. For now, she was happy being only some girl on the city street. No one more, no one less. She didn't have to be Sam Puckett or Sam Auguston. She could just _be_. Memories were not something necessary for walking down the street.

The feeling in her stomach couldn't be ignored, though. It was that feeling that made her know something was wrong.

A car sped by, straight through a particularly large puddle. It splashed up, soaking Sam.

Under normal circumstances, that would have screamed something "Agh! Dammit!", or some other word of questionable kindness, and given the driver a certain one-finger gesture from afar.

Under these circumstances, though, Sam just stared in the direction of the car, and walked away. It didn't matter much anyway. Nothing mattered much, really. Life is life. You get stuck in it and can't do anything about it.

She sighed. The ends of hair had gotten wet from the car. If there was anything Sam hated, it was the feeling of wet hair on her neck. She pulled a black hair tie off her wrist and twisted her hair into a makeshift bun.

"_Edith, why do you and Cecil deal with me?"_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_Well, I mean. . . Idunno, why didn't you just send me off somewhere? You've already had kids, why are you bothering with me now? That would have been a lot easier for you guys."_

"_Sammy, how about I ask you a question?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Cecil and I are old. We aren't all 'cool' like you teenagers are. You're still a kid, so why do you choose to live with two old farts when you could very well go be a foster kid like you tell everyone?"_

"_Because I like you guys."_

"_Just like?"_

"_Hmph. Fine, I love you guys."_

"_That's what I wanted to hear!"_

Sam's composure quivered for a moment, and she leaned against a nearby brick wall, closing her eyes. Pain—the emotional kind, not the physical—shot through her. Her life was falling to pieces around her and there was nothing she could do about it. She had lost her identity, her friends, her life, and now she had lost her new life, her comfort and security, and the woman who was not only her guardian, but her best friend. Part of Sam commended herself for being strong enough and brave enough to get through it—another part wondered why she hadn't fallen apart into a million pieces yet. It was almost unnatural.

"I'm going to need therapy some day, aren't I?" She hadn't realized she had said that aloud. A nearby man sitting on a bench glanced at her, dismissing her as some reckless teenager.

The rain picked up, growing heavier. Instead of light drops, the water now fell in big droplets, the kind that will soak a person to the bone in just a few seconds. Sam looked up, watching the droplets fall from the sky.

"Taxi! Taxi!"

It came from her left. Three unmistakable voices, all shouting the same word. She turned towards their direction as they raced toward the yellow cab that had pulled up at the end of the block.

Her feet started to move before she could stop them.

"S-Sam?" It was Carly.

"What's going on?"

Ally was grabbing Freddie and Carly's arms, trying to get them to move. "We don't have time, guys, we have to move!" She gave up on Freddie, and was able to pull Carly along. The boy just stood still, staring down at Sam.

"Where are you going, Freddie?"

He looked flustered and confused. "I-I don't. . ."

Sam was getting slightly angry. "Why are you all-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence.

Freddie pulled Sam towards him suddenly, catching her lips in his. In this moment, she knew everything he was trying to say. _I'm trying to protect you. I want to try and fix this. Please don't disappear again. _It was just a momentary kiss, yet she was so conscious of his lips against hers and the dissonance of their racing heartbeats and the blush radiating across her face. He released her, but his face still hovered inches from hers. The rain came down in big, heavy droplets, soaking them. "I'm not going to lose you again."

She wanted to insult him. She wanted to call him a nerd, a nub, a loser, an idiot. Anything would work, so why was forming an insult so difficult. Why was forming any kind of words suddenly so difficult?

Freddie stood up straight. He looked down at her again. "So don't go disappearing or anything."

He ran off after Carly and Allie, jumping into the cab they had finally gotten to stop. Sam gazed up at the sky, and when she looked back down, they were gone.

"Idiot! That idiot!"

She fell to her knees, dismissing the fact that she was falling into a puddle of city-water. Tears fell down her face, blending in with the raindrops. She had been crying all too much lately.

"I never asked to be the damsel in distress. . ."


End file.
